Crown'd with a thousand victries, and at last
Lords of the conquer'd soil, there rooted fast,
In peace possessing what they won by war,
Their name far publish'd and revered as far ;
Where will you find a race like theirs, endow'd
With all that man e'er wished, or Heaven bestow'd ?

They, and they only, amongst all mankind,
Received the transcript of th' eternal mind;
Were trusted with his own engraven laws,
And constituted guardians of his cause;
Theirs were the prophets, theirs the priestly call,
And theirs by birth the Saviour of us all.
In vain the nations, that had seen them rise
With fierce and envious yet admiring eyes,
Had sought to crush them, guarded as they were
By power divine, and skill that could not err.
Had they maintain'd allegiance firm and sure,
And kept the faith immaculate and pure,
Then the proud eagles of all-conquering Rome
Had found one city not to be o'ercome;
And the twelve standards of the tribes unfurl'd
Had bid defiance to the warring world.
But grace abused brings forth the foulest deeds,
As richest soil the most luxuriant weeds.
Cured of the golden calves, their fathers' sin,
They set up self, that idol god, within ;
View'd a Deliverer with disdain and hate,
Who left them still a tributary state ;
Seized fast his hand, held out to set them free
From a worse yoke, and nail'd it to the tree:
There was the consummation and the crown,
The flower of Israel's infamy full blown;
Thence date their sad declension and their fall,
Their woes not yet repeald thence date them all.

Thus fell the best instructed in her day, And the most favour'd land, look where we may. Philosophy indeed on Grecian eyes Had pour'd the day, and clear'd the Roman skies ; In other climes perhaps creative art, With power surpassing theirs, perform'd her part,

Might give more life to marble, or might fill

The glowing tablets with a juster skill ;*
Might shine in fable, and grace idle themes
With all the embroid'ry of poetic dreams :
'Twas theirs alone to dive into the plan
That Truth and Mercy had reveald to man;
And while the world beside, that plan unknown,
Deified useless wood or senseless stone,
They breathed in faith their well directed pray'rs,
And the true God, the God of truth, was theirs.

Their glory faded and their race dispersed,
The last of nations now, though once the first ;
They warn and teach the proudest, would they learn,
Keep wisdom, or meet vengeance in your turn :
If we escaped not, if Heaven spared not us,
Peeld, scatter'd, and exterminated thus ;
If vice received her retribution due,
When we were visited, what hope for you?
When God arises with an awful frown
To punish lust or pluck presumption down ;
When gifts perverted, or not duly prized,
Pleasure o’ervalued, and his grace despised,
Provoke the vengeance of his righteous hand
To pour down wrath upon a thankless land,
He will be found impartially severe,
Too just to wink, or speak the guilty clear.

O Israel, of all nations most undone ! Thy diadem displaced, thy sceptre gone ; Thy temple, once thy glory, fall’n and razed, 5 And thou a worshipper e'en where thou may’st ; Thy services, once holy without spot, Mere shadows now their ancient pomp forgot ; Thy Levites, once a consecrated host, No longer Levites, and their lineage lost, And thou thyself o'er every country sown, With none on earth that thou canst call thine own; Cry aloud, thou that sittest in the dust, Cry to the proud, the cruel, and unjust ; Knock at the gates of nations, 'rouse their fears ; Say wrath is coming, and the storm appears ; But raise the shrillest cry in British ears.

What ails thee, restless as the waves that roar, And Aling their foam against thy chalky shore ? Mistress, at least while Providence shall please, And trident-bearing queen of the wide seasWhy, having kept good faith, and often shown Friendship and truth to others, find'st thou none ? Thou thạt hast set the persecuted free, None interposes now to succour thee. Countries indebted to thy power, that shine With light derived from thee, would smother thine; Thy very children watch for thy disgrace, Ą lawless brood, and curse thee to thy face. 6 Thy rulers load thy credit, year by year, With sums Peruvian mines could never clear ; As if, like arches built with skilful hand, The more 'twere press'd the firmer it would stand.

The cry in all thy ships is still the same, “ Speed us away to battle and to fame." Thy mariners explore the wild expanse, Impatient to descry the flags of France ; But, though they fight as thine have ever fought, Return ashamed, without the wreaths they sought.” Thy senate is a scene of civil jar, Chaos of contrarieties at war ; Where sharp and solid, phlegmatic and light, Discordant atoms meet, ferment, and fight ; Where obstinacy takes his sturdy stand, To disconcert what policy has plann'd; Where policy is busied all night long In setting right what faction has set wrong; Where flails of oratory thrash the floor, That yields them chaff and dust, and nothing more. Thy rack'd inhabitants repine, complain, Tax'd till the brow of labour sweats in vain ; War lays a burden on the reeling state, And peace does nothing to relieve the weight; Successive loads succeeding broils impose, And sighing millions prophesy the close. 8

Is adverse Providence, when ponder'd well, So dimly writ, or difficult to spell,

Thou canst not read with readiness and ease Providence adverse in events like these? Know, then, that heavenly wisdom on this ball Creates, gives birth to, guides, consummates all ; That, while laborious and quick thoughted man Snuffs up the praise of what he seems to plan, He first conceives, then perfects his design, As a mere instrument in hands divine : Blind to the working of that secret power, That balances the wings of ev'ry hour, The busy trifler dreams himself alone, Frames many a purpose, and God works his own. States thrive or wither as moons wax and wane, E'en as His will and His decrees ordain : While honour, virtue, piety, bear sway, They flourish; and, as these decline, decay : In just resentment of His injured laws, He pours contempt on them and on their cause ; Strikes the rough thread of error right athwart The web of ev'ry scheme they have at heart; Bids rottenness invade and bring to dust The pillars of support, in which they trust, And do his errand of disgrace and shame On the chief strength and glory of the frame. None ever yet impeded what He wrought, None bars Him out from his most secret thought; Darkness itself before his eye is light, And Hell's close mischief naked in His sight.

Stand now and judge thyself: Hast thou incurr'd His anger, who can waste thee with a word, Who poises and proportions sea and land, Weighing them in the hollow of His hand, And in whose awful sight all nations seem As grasshoppers, as dust, a drop, a dream ? Hast thou (a sacrilege His soul abhors) Claim'd all the glory of thy prosp’rous wars ? Proud of thy fleets and armies, stolen the gem Of His just praise to lavish it on them ? Hast thou not learn'd, what thou art often told, A truth still sacred, and believed of old,

That no success attends on spears and swords
Unblest, and that the battle is the Lord's ?
That Courage is His creature ; and Dismay
The post, that at His bidding speeds away,
Ghastly in feature, and his stamm’ring tongue
With doleful rumour and sad presage hung,
To quell the valour of the stoutest heart,
And teach the combatant a woman's part ?
That He bids thousands fly when none pursue,
Saves as He will by many or by few,
And claims for ever, as His royal right,
The event, and sure decision of the fight.

Hast thou, though suckled at fair freedom's breast,
Exported slav'ry to the conquer'd East ?
Pull'd down the tyrants India served with dread,
And raised thyself, a greater, in their stead ?
Gone thither arm’d and hungry, return'd full,
Fed from the richest veins of the Mogul,
A despot big with power obtain'd by wealth,
And that obtain’d by rapine and by stealth ?
With Asiatic vices stored thy mind,
But left their virtues and thine own behind ?
And, having truck'd thy soul, brought home the fee, .
To tempt the poor to sell himself to thee ?

Hast thou by statute shoved from its design
The Saviour's feast, his own blest bread and wine,
And made the symbols of atoning grace
An office key, a picklock to a place,
That infidels may prove their title good
By an oath dipp'd in sacramental blood ?
A blot that will be still a blot, in spite
Of all that grave apologists may write;
And though a bishop toil to cleanse the stain,
He wipes and scours the silver cup in vain.
And hast thou sworn on every slight pretence,
Till perjuries are common as bad pence,
While thousands, careless of the damning sin,
Kiss the book's outside, who ne'er look within ? 9

Hast thou, when Heaven has clothed thee with disgrace, And, long provoked, repaid thee to thy face,